Evil Unknown
by The Penguin That Flies
Summary: After being in hiding for several years, Hawke receives a letter from the Grey Wardens. Rated M for every aspect of it.
1. Chapter 1: Hidden & Found

**AN: A PRE-STORY NOTE...WHAT IS THIS? Well, just want to say - hi. Welcome to my story. If you haven't played and finished both Dragon Age: Origins, and Dragon Age 2, then you're going to be confused and highly spoiled within this fanfic. Yep. A few things to help you get into the mood of the story: **

**-Hawke is female and the super-duper default - meaning with the red mark across her face and the dark short hair.**

**-She is a rogue.**

**That is all you needed to know, really. The rest is revealed/explained. Enjoy! **

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter One: Hidden & Found_

Years ago, I lost my brother to an Ogre, as we fled Lothering from the Blight.

A few years later, my mother was a victim of some of the most disturbing blood magic I have ever seen.

Only a few months ago, my uncle Gamlen fell sick with fever, and passed on in his sleep.

Now, as I sit on this unwashed and rather stiff cot, I hold a letter in my hands.

I don't know how they found me after the incident in Kirkwall.

It is addressed from the Grey Wardens - but not specifically from my little sister.

Why would they be sending me a letter?

Hawke slid her nimble fingers under the edges of the paper and popped up the official seal of the Wardens. Tucking a lock of her short hair behind her ear, her eyes slid over each word carefully.

"To Lady Taeryn Hawke,

I regret to inform you that your sister, Bethany Hawke, has joined the Maker. I am truly sorry for your loss. Bethany was one of the strongest mages I have ever met, and her presence will be missed within the Grey Wardens and by the lands she helped defend.

You were hard to find, but knowing Bethany...she would have wanted you to know. I have also heard of your actions, Lady Hawke, and if you have any interest in investigating the death of your sister, I'll be staying at the Inn. Just ask the nice lady in the front for 'the Grey Warden'. Again, I'm sorry for your loss. Bethany will be missed by all.

-Alistair"

Closing her eyes, the paper crumpled under her fingers. For a moment, she was still as she let the information wash over her.

With one quick action, she grabbed her small bag from the foot of the cot and threw the letter into the fire within the small room. Quickly moving down the stairs, Hawke waved at the tavern's owner.

"Off already?"

"Looks like it," Hawke nodded, reaching into her pocket. Pulling out several gold pieces, she discreetly handed them to the bartender, "Thank you. I won't forget this."

"It was no trouble," the older man smiled, as he pushed his graying hair out of his face, "You kept my pub safe, and helped me out in more ways than I can count. You'll be missed, Hawke."

"Please don't use that name," she whispered, quickly glancing around the pub.

"You're not in Kirkwall anymore. Here, you're just the Champion."

"Goodbye, Lincoln. Thank you again."

"Hey! Hey you! Lady Hawke!"

As she quietly walked down the dirt road with her hood pulled over her features, a man called after her. She slowed her pace as she heard the footsteps grow in volume. Holding perfectly still until the last moment, Hawke quickly turned around and grabbed the man who had been following her. Pulling him into the dark between two buildings, she pinned him to the wall. A small dagger that had been hidden in her cloak, now gently rested against the man's neck.

"Uhg...I...good morning, Lady Hawke," the man spouted, as the look of surprise settled within his light eyes.

"_Stop_ calling me that," she hissed, "Who do you think you are?"

"Alistair of the Grey Wardens. We met once, remember? You were killing a bunch of those giant horny grey things."

"Qunari?"

"Yeah. It..." his voice dropped, "...was the first time you saw Bethany since she became a Warden."

Hawke leaned away from the wall, releasing the man.

"Right. Now that I'm not pinned to a wall...would you like to sit and talk somewhere?"

Exiting the dark space between the two buildings, she glanced over her shoulder at the Warden, "How did you find me?"

"Anders. He was a Grey-"

"How did you find him?"

"I knew him quite well before he ran for Kirkwall."

"He was able to see past your Templar past?"

"Ha," Alistair pointed at Hawke as he followed her, "You _do_ remember me."

"Didn't answer my question."

"I don't hate mages. My Templar past wasn't my _choice_," his voice growing a bit aggressive, "Hell, I was never even a full Templar."

Hawke paused in her steps and glanced over her shoulder with a light smile upon her features.

"What? What is that look for?" Alistair asked, lowering his eyebrows in confusion.

"Excitable, aren't we?"

"Oh shut up."

**AN: Oh god two author's notes in one chapter? Weird. Anyway, I'm finally getting away from Mass Effect for a bit. Sorry it took me awhile to start writing another one. Semester ended in college and I had to move to a temporary place for a week, then now I'm finally in my new home...which lasts all of two months. Yay. **

**It will get quite a bit more M rated. The plot I have worked out for this fanfic is actually quite disturbing and mature. So you will get: sex, violence, language, mature themes, and stuff like that. I'll just keep the disclaimer at the bottom.**

**Rated M for: Future language, future sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	2. Chapter 2: Now talk

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Two: Now talk_

As I sit and listen to Alistair tell me everything, I can't help but think of how I came to be here. It feels like only yesterday I watched the Chantry explode in Kirkwall. Only yesterday when I punched Anders in the stomach for being an idiot, before standing on the side of the mages. That's why I ran.

That's why I'm in hiding.

Yet Alistair was able to find me. All he had to do was find Anders.

I'm not safe anymore.

"How did she die?" Hawke asked, as a large plate of food was set upon the table between them.

Alistair smiled up at the their server, before refocusing on Hawke, "We...don't know."

"Don't know? How can you not know? Was she stabbed? Drowned? Burned? Was her life force sucked out of her from a blood mage?"

"That's...oddly graphic, but no."

"No? Was she dragged off by darkspawn?"

"We're...not sure, as I said."

As Alistair reached for a piece of fruit on the plate, Hawke pulled a dagger from her belt and slammed it on the table just to the left of his wrist - pinning his sleeve to the table.

"Tell me the full story then."

The warrior glanced down at his wrist with a dark expression, "Maybe I should have stayed in full armor around you, _Lady_ Hawke."

"Maybe you should have. Now tell me the full story on how you got my sister killed."

"Hey! I never said I got her killed."

"Then explain."

"Then...release me from the table," he met her gaze.

Pulling her dagger from the wooden surface, Alistair quickly recoiled his arm, "I'm here as a favor for you, Hawke," he grunted, rubbing his wrist.

"To tell me that you don't know what killed my sister?"

"Because Bethany was my friend and...I could use some help."

"Help? You have the Grey Wardens."

"The Warden Commander-"

"Hero of Ferelden?"

"Yes. Also known as the _King_."

"Power in your land seems to be in the hands of one man."

"Yeah. But I'm here because the King feels that we shouldn't put more effort into this matter and that it will come 'searching for us'. I, however, feel differently."

"So, he won't let you take any other Wardens?"

"No."

"So you found me?" Hawke picked a grape from the plate of food, and gently slid the sphere between her lips.

"Yes. Bethany was found with a group of other Wardens that I put her in charge of. They were in the middle of a field - impossibly far from where they should have been. Unharmed. Well - not unharmed. Dead. They were dead. Not a scratch on their bodies, though."

"So, magic then."

"Not magic. When someone is killed with magic it leaves a...what did Anders call it? A...a...well a mage can sense the spell that was used to kill the individual. Even if some complex magic is used to cover the magic - the cover magic would be 'sensed'," Alistair lifted his fingers from the table to make quote marks, "The weirdest part was...well you've killed a lot of people, yes?"

"Yes."

"Their eyes weren't clouded over. I was expecting Bethany to just stand up and bash me on the head with her staff for looking at her so closely."

A smile pulled at Hawke's features.

"See? I told you I knew her well," Alistair pointed at Hawke as he spoke, "So...interested?"

The woman paused in thought - her hand resting gently on her chin, "Where did she die?"

"Free Marches."

"Where?"

"A fortnight south of Starkhaven."

"Where was she _supposed_ to be?"

"Wycome."

"That's...a bit of a difference. Why was she there?"

"She was doing an investigation with some other Wardens."

"Investigating what?"

"Talk of darkspawn."

"But the Blight-"

"Is over. Yes, I'm aware. I was right there when it exploded."

"It...exploded?"

"Yes it did. It meaning the Arch Demon, of course. I think. Well something knocked us all unconscious as the King lopped off its head."

"...Right."

"So...interested?"

Hawke lowered her gaze to the food that they had nearly finished off. She idly toyed with the cuff of her sleeve for a moment, before raising her gaze to meet Alistair's.

"Fine."

"You're in?"

"Yes. But we're going to need more people."

"We will?"

Hawke leaned forward on the table, causing Alistair to lean away from her slightly, "Whatever killed Bethany and the others isn't some farmer or a few darkspawn. We're going to need help. I don't know about you, but I don't exactly feel confident that a warrior and rogue can take on whatever is coming at us. Do you?" Hawke studied his face, as he dropped his eyes and scratched his neck.

"No, I guess not. I don't imagine any of your old friends would be interested in helping us?"

"Isabella is off on the seas somewhere, Aveline managed to retain her position as the head city guard, Fenris...disappeared after Kirkwall..." Hawke began, counting off her friends on her fingers.

"Right...so none of them are available?"

"To my knowledge, no. They had their fun running with me - but they all moved on," she shrugged, "But...what's Anders up to? You said you talked to him?"

"He's hiding in a small village as a healer. Nearly killed me when he saw me coming."

"He wants to be free. Remember - he blew up the Chantry. That man takes the idea to a whole new level."

Alistair laughed under his breath, "Yeah...he's such a strange man."

"So when should we be off?"

Alistair narrowed his eyes at Hawke at the sudden subject change, before rising to his feet, "Fine. Let's get some supplies then we can go."

**AN: Another chapter woo! I meant to say this in the last chapter, but I'm trying a slightly new style for this fanfic. The first-person-present part at the beginning is new and exciting. If I don't like it later, I may trash it - but so far I love it. On to the next one!**

**Rated M for: Future language, future sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	3. Chapter 3: Thumbs, wolves, & sarcasm

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Three: Thumbs, wolves, & heavy sarcasm_

Alistair is awful at starting fires. It was like watching a puppy climb stairs. You're just afraid they're going to hurt themselves...and it's somewhat pathetic to watch. He eventually got off his high-horse and let me quickly start the fire.

We're now just sitting around the deep orange flames and he hasn't spoken a word. My knowledge of the blonde man is rather limited. I know he was the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden during the Blight, other than the current King, of course. Bethany told me about his Templar past and how he always had a smart remark for everything. Apparently that made her separation from me a bit easier. I'm still not sure if that was an insult or not.

He probably knows more about me than I'd prefer, from Bethany. She has..._had_ the tendency to tell stories about her life whenever idle and around people she considered friends. She was always a fan of telling awkward stories about growing up in Lothering. I have personally heard her tell the tale of how we got into Kirkwall, several times.

But what about him?

Who the hell is Alistair?

"Where are we starting?" Hawke asked, poking the fire as she spoke, "Obviously north of here, unless we're planning a swim"

"No I thought we'd go as far south as we could."

"Good plan. Run from the problem."

"_Just like they expect us to_ - but they won't be expecting us _to expect them, to expect us._"

"Right. Back in the days you traveled with the King...he was in charge constantly, I assume?"

Alistair nearly answered the question before his eyes narrowed at Hawke, "Hey..."

"Well...from what I've heard, you were a Grey Warden longer, yes?"

"Well yes, but I-"

"So this kid comes in and steals your command?"

"That's not-"

"And not only becomes the Warden Commander," Hawke laughed through her words, "But the _King of Ferelden_. Well...I guess that makes a bit more sense - unless you're secretly of noble blood," Hawke continued to smile - gesturing at Alistair.

"Me? Noble blood?" Alistair began laughing uncomfortably.

"You're not...of noble blood? Right?"

"I was raised by wolves."

"I can tell by your inability to use your thumbs."

Alistair wiggled his thumbs slightly as he spoke, "They taught me the ways of the wild, you see."

"Of course. But not how to make a fire?"

"Have you ever seen a wolf use their thumbs?"

"Wolves don't have thumbs, Alistair."

"I...I know that. I was making a point."

"Right," Hawke rested her narrow face upon her hand, "So what did they teach you?"

"Oh - I can't tell you."

"Of course you can't," Hawke shook her head.

"Because they made me swear never to tell-"

"Okay this is getting a bit weird. From your weird fucking story, I'm guessing you're someone's bastard?"

"W...why would you say that?"

"You just wove a story about being raised by wolves, Alistair - and would still be running with it if I hadn't stopped you."

"Maybe I just don't like my past," his eyes dropped with his tone - as he stared into the fire.

"Sorry...I'll drop it," Hawke raised her hands in defense, as she re-concentrated on the fire, shooting Alistair a side-glance.

"Sorry, I just don't like talking about it," Alistair apologized in a low tone - his eyes glued to the flames, as they consumed the earlier gathered logs.

"I understand. Being raised by wolves had to be tough."

The Grey Warden smiled slightly, as he watched Hawke out of the corner of his eye, "Especially since they didn't have thumbs."

**AN: WHY DO I LOVE WRITING THEM SO MUCH GAHHH. Oh - another note. Chapters will be shorter than my previous fanfics, because it lets me put out more, more often - plus it's easier to just sit down and read like 500-1k words instead of 2k, yeah? **

**Rated M for: Future language, future sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	4. Chapter 4: Rain

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Four: Rain_

Bethany.

She just _had_ to die and ruin a perfectly good day of squatting in that small pub. I was having _such_ a fun time using my refined skills to murder oversized rats that would attack the kitchens, and breaking up bar-fights before they got out of hand.

But she gets to see Mother again. And Father. And Carver. And maybe even Uncle Gamlen if the Maker would have him.

It's raining.

Alistair seems oddly quiet this morning. Not _one_ smart-ass remark so far. I wonder if he's feeling alright?

Today we keep moving in the general direction of Bethany's death. We need more people though...and I honestly can't think of a soul who would agree to go along with this. Then again, I thought something similar when I met nearly all my friends back in Kirkwall.

–

"What's the goal for today, fearless leader?" Hawke asked, as she threw her bag upon her back – kicking the ashes that they had created from the fire the night before.

"Get to the next town, I guess?"

"You guess? I'm following you, Warden. Tell me where to go."

"To the next town! Away!"

"Now that's too enthusiastic and I feel like we're going to die."

"There's just no pleasing you, is there?"

Hawke smirked at Alistair, "I bet that's not the first time you've said that to a lady."

"Hey..." the Grey Warden's features notably flushed, as his eyes darted around the land around them.

"I expected anger and resentment – not a blushing schoolboy."

"We should get a move on," Alistair began following the path to the next town.

"Yes we can move, but hold on. Why the blushing schoolboy?" Hawke asked, catching up with the man in a few quick steps.

"Uh...so the next tow-"

"Hey Alistair."

"What now?"

"Breasts."

Alistair scratched his neck as they walked, causing Hawke to laugh, "I'm glad this is amusing for at least one of us," the Warden grunted, quickening his pace a bit more.

"Modest or pure?" the rogue asked, shooting him a side-glance.

"Huh?"

"Do you just not like talking about bedding people, or are you a pure little templar?"

"I'm _not _a templar. I've told you this."

"Damn. Avoiding the question could mean either..."

"Exactly."

"So you won't tell me about your past and won't tell me about what you've done with little Alistair," Hawk recounted, fiddling with her dagger as she walked.

"So if I asked you anything would you just tell me?"

"You've probably heard my life story from Bethany a few times over."

"That's different!"

"Oh? Is it now?"

"Yes!"

Hawke pushed her hair out of her face and glared over at Alistair, "Oh, I'd love to hear this."

"It explains itself."

Shaking her head, she looked away from the Warden, squinting slightly from the thick rain.

"Someone's up ahead..." Hawke stated, slowing her steps.

"There's multiple..." Alistair watched as thick plumes of smoke filled the air before them.

"Has to be a town."

"Why?"

"If you didn't notice, Alistair, it's raining. Fire tends to not work with wet."

"Right. So fireplaces?"

"I'd assume so. Or some _really_ intense blood magic," Hawke glanced up at the rain again, as the drops grew heavier, "Is there even supposed to be a town here?"

"According to my map...no...no there isn't."

The rain grew heavier, causing Hawke to grimace and glance over at Alistair, and gesture forward, "Well at least we can get out of the rain for a bit."

**AN: I AM A BAD PERSON AND FEEL BAD. I am so sorry I disappeared forever! First I had to move, then there was no internet for _weeks_, then I was working all day, then I honestly lost inspiration. But I found it! I did! Today I went to the beach and spent most of the time with my notebook writing ideas - so I'm still writing this. I'm sorry I left you all waiting for more and this is a somewhat tiny chapter. I'll get more up very soon and keep going until it's done. Again I'm sorry.**

**Also - at work people are starting to call me "Hawk" since it's relevant to my last name. I don't think I've ever been so happy.**

**Rated M for: Future language, sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	5. Chapter 5: Hawk & Hawke

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Five: Hawk and Hawke_

In all my travels, I haven't had particularly good luck with strangers. They tend to either ask me to kill someone for little repayment, or attack me without due cause. However, the people in this odd little town seem to not be fitting my formula.

Everyone so far has been nice and extremely generous.

Something is wrong here.

"Can I get you another drink?"

Hawke glanced up from her mug and shook her head, "No...I think I'm good."

"I'll have another."

The barkeeper gave them a nod and disappeared, as Hawke glanced over to the Warden, "You're drinking _more_?"

"I didn't take you as a lightweight."

"Are you challenging me, Warden?"

"You've had only a few. I am simply observing..."

"This is going to turn into a drinking game, isn't it? Then we both wake up in a bed with a nug and it's awkward for the rest of this journey," Hawke stood, as Alistair's new drink was slid before him, "I'm out."

"This sounds like a story you want to share," Alistair smiled, siping the mead.

"No."

"C'mon."

"I'm glad you enjoy drinking and talking about fucking animals."

"Hey-!"

Hawke frowned, glancing around the tavern, "We should probably be asking around if these people have seen anything tied to Bethany's...departure."

"It's a bit far from where it happened, don't you think?"

"Word travels. People travel," Hawke shrugged, grabbing Alistair's mead from him - taking a long swig.

"And Hawke steals my drink."

"Did someone say Hawke?"

Freezing, the rogue glanced around Alistair to the barkeeper.

"Like the bird?" she asked, slowly handing the Warden back his mead.

"I think he means your name," Alistair whispered - his cheeks appearing a bit red from the drink.

"Not now."

"Did...he just say _you_ were Hawke?" the barkeeper remained in his spot on the far side of the bar - his eyes narrowed at them.

"No."

"Cuz it sure sounded like he just named you the 'Champion' of Kirkwall."

"Is someone talking about that bitch Hawke?" a man asked, causing the rogue to take a deep breath.

"Calm down, gentleman," she smiled, "Simply a mishearing of words. Well, misunderstanding really."

The other patrons were now slowly standing, staring at both the Warden and the Champion.

"Hawke isn't exactly a common name," the barkeeper continued - sliding a hand under the counter.

"But it's an animal," she reasoned, "See, earlier today we saw a hawk swoop down and grab a small animal near us. He was just making a joke," she shrugged, keeping a calm expression, as Alistair finished his mead a bit too quickly.

"Hawks around here don't exactly fly around in the rain."

"Why are we getting excited about this?" Alistair asked, "Something flew from the sky and grabbed something from the ground. I thought it was a hawk. Maybe it wasn't. It was early this morning anyway," he shrugged, as the rogue studied the men that were slowly surrounding them.

"I knew Hawke, and that's not her."

All attention snapped to a hooded man on the other side of the bar.

"She has a scar across her nose. Haven't you seen the drawings?"

"It's a scar?" a patron frowned, "I always heard she used the blood of her first kill as war paint."

"No it's a scar - and this woman most certainly does not have one."

"Huh...I always thought it was a birthmark..." Hawke mumbled, silently praising the man who just saved her from a slightly intoxicated fight with locals - glad the rain had washed away any remains of the mark across her nose.

After a moment, the room settled - the barkeeper giving both Alistair and Hawke a drink 'on the house' for the mixup.

"That was exciting," Hawke sighed, as she slowly drank her new glass.

"Maybe I should just call you by your first name...or something? Oh! Can we have code names?"

"No."

"To which?"

"No code names."

"So first names only?"

"I guess that'll work..." Hawke trailed, as the hooded man from earlier dropped a note into Alistair's now empty glass.

The Warden retrieved the note - shaking the mead out of it slightly, before handing it to Hawke.

"Not safe to talk here. Meet me in the Dek Inn down the street. Room 8. I'll get you both a room there for the night - but you must leave in the morning."

"Say who it is?"

"No."

"Should we really be meeting with a random hooded man in a random Inn while we're both teetering on drunk?"

"I am _not_ drunk."

"Right...right...and the slight slur to your speech and red in your face is just there for being so happy to see me."

"Exactly."

"Oh...we're going to die, aren't we?"

Hawke helped Alistair to his feet, before they walked down the street to the Inn named in the note. Approaching room eight, she knocked quietly as Alistair leaned on the wall, slightly laughing to himself.

"Your tolerance to alcohol is shameful," she smiled, as the man leaned his head against the wall.

"Oh fuck off."

"Dirty mouth for a templar."

"_Still _not a templar."

"How did you get so drunk so quickly? You were fine a minute ago."

"You know what? I have no idea. Maker - where is this guy?"

"I'm knocking again."

"Still not admitting you're drunk yet?"

"I'm fine," Hawke grunted, as she knocked again - this time a bit harder.

"I think you're just _hiding_ it better than me."

The door opened - revealing the silhouette of the hooded man.

"Good to see you again, Hawke. Alistair."

"Yeah...I'd respond just as nicely, but I have no idea who you are," Alistair greeted, leaning in the doorway beside Hawke.

"Oh! Sorry," the man quickly lowered his hood - revealing blond hair that was half pulled into a small ponytail.

"Anders?" Hawke asked, studying him, "Odd to see you in non-mage-robes."

The mage smiled and glanced down at his light armor - which was slightly concealed behind some basic clothing.

"It's easier to hide out as a mage when you're not wearing a dress," he shrugged, smiling slightly - his eyes glued to Hawke.

"Hey - you liked wearing those dresses," Alistair observed, his face now bright red from the drink in his system, "You bragged and _bragged_ how it was great for quickies in the Tower."

"Wow," Hawke laughed under her breath, as Anders scratched his neck, eyes darting around the room.

"I...that was a long time ago," the mage frowned, before he glanced up and noticed both Hawke and Alistair were still laughing slightly, "Are you both...smashed?"

"No...no I am not," Hawke shook her head, as Alistair pointed at her and nodded.

"I am!" he added, a bit proudly, as Anders muttered slightly under his breath.

"Well...we can talk in the morning..._afternoon_, I guess," he shook his head as he retrieved two keys from his pocket, and handed each of them one.

"Hawke you've got the door to the left. Alistair to the right."

"Night everyone!" Alistair sang slightly, before disappearing into his room without hesitation.

"Goodnight," Anders nodded, hand reaching for the door to close off his room.

"Wait."

The mage paused in his actions, "What is it Hawke?"

"Can we talk?"

"Can you stand?"

"I'm _not drunk._"

"Fine. Come in."

The Champion slowly entered the room, before pausing by the fireplace and turning towards Anders after a moment.

"So how have you been?"

"Really? Small talk?" Anders asked, "Last time I saw you, you punched me right in the face," he tapped his eye with one finger.

"You did just blow up the Chantry without so much as a warning and started an all-out-war," she shrugged, glancing back at the flames.

"I had to."

"Right...right...because you're a not-abomination."

"I...!" he paused, taking a deep breath, "I am not an abomination. It is not a demon inside me - but a spirit."

"I still fail to see the difference. You're possessed and it's controlling you," she stated, motioning slightly with her right hand.

Anders took a deep breath, shaking his head, "You are drunk. We've been through _all_ of this before."

"I am _not drunk._"

"Then why are you asking these asinine questions with this ridiculous accusations?"

"Because what else is there to say?"

"I miss you."

"That...I did not expect."

"Hawke..." Anders approached her - gently cupping her face with his left hand, causing her eyes to drop to the ground, "Look at me."

"But this is such a lovely floor."

A smile spread across Anders features, as her eyes slowly slid to his.

"I...It's been hard without you. After years of waking up next to you, I still can't sleep by myself."

A smile tugged at Hawke's lips, "Same."

"I...know it has been a while Hawke, but..."

The rogue slowly pulled Anders into a hug - burying her face into his shoulder.

"Me too," she whispered from the cloth on his shoulder.

Gently, Anders placed a hand on the back of her head, before bestowing a gentle kiss atop it.

"Oh how I've missed you, Hawke."

**AN: I MADE A CHAPTER AND IT'S LONG AND DIDN'T TAKE A MONTH. Aren't you proud? Drunk Hawke and drunk Alistair is far too entertaining for me. She hides it exceedingly well - but I do alter her speech pattern slightly - and her thinking process. Alistair on the other hand seems to embrace it. I mean...it's raining in a small town. What else are they going to do? And Anders...oh Anders. Such a complex and messed up character. I tried pulling in some Awakening-esk Anders in there, because it honestly bothered me how different he was in DA2. I felt like it should have been slightly less of a hard change. While it's cool he's got Justice inside him - I feel like he should have been slightly less appropriate. Just slightly. Yes.**

**Rated M for: language, sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	6. Chapter 6: Complicated

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Six: Complicated_

I am never drinking again.

Wait...where am I? A bed...at that Inn? Yes. We went to the Inn and found Anders. But...wait. Wait. Did I ever make it to my room?

Alistair went to bed but I stayed to talk to Anders. But...then what?

I...oh he's next to me.

I really need to stop drinking.

Am I naked?

Not naked...but this isn't the amount of clothing I came into this room with.

Oh...Maker.

Anders eyes slowly opened at the slight movement from Hawke, as she checked to see her level of dress. A relaxed smile spread across his features as he studied her slightly.

"Good morning."

"Hey..." she smiled back, before her expression wavered, "We didn't...?"

"Hmm? Oh - no. No, we did not," Anders assured her, "I mean...you _tried_...a little..."

"I...what?"

Anders winced, "You...know how you get when you've had a bit too much to drink..."

"So I was-?"

"Pinning me to the bed at one point, yes."

"Maker's breath - I'm never drinking again."

Anders laughed under his breath and shook his head, "That's what you said after the nug incident."

"We don't talk about that."

"Isabela still does," he smirked, shortly before yawning and stretching.

"You've...seen Isabela?"

"We've run into each other a few times..."

Hawke narrowed her eyes as Anders folded his arms behind his head - eyes focused on the ceiling.

"How is she?"

"Very much the same."

"So...sexually harassed at least three people in the room - including yourself - and used her massive breasts to get you both free drinks?"

"Actually yes. That about sums it up."

Hawke laughed under her breath, as a knock came from the door - causing the large piece of wood to swing towards them.

"Sorry I was just knocking and it fell-"

Alistair froze in place, staring at the two in bed - his face turning a lovely shade of pink.

"I...I'm...I'll be in my room," he stammered, as he backed into the wall behind him, before he disappeared down the hall.

"That...was awkward."

"Hawke..." Anders pushed himself up onto his elbows, before fully sitting up, "Does Alistair not know that we were together for several years?"

"He...never asked."

Anders laughed under his breath, as he shook his head, "I'm almost afraid to see his reaction if something was actually happening in this room."

"Considering his last reaction was from two people in the same bed and nothing more...I'd imagine that he'd just hit the floor."

"Like if I was doing something like..." Anders rolled himself on top of Hawke, "This...or..." he propped himself up on his elbows, pressing himself against the Champion, "This."

A smile spread across his features, as the woman under him studied him.

"I can feel that you've been waiting for an opportunity to do that since you woke up," Hawke commented wiggling her hips slightly - causing Anders' eyes to widen slightly at the sensation.

"Well...it is morning," Anders shrugged, leaning his face closer to Hawke's, "You know how that goes," he smiled, his lips parting slightly as he started to close the remaining space between them.

Hawke frowned, "Anders," she stated a bit coldly - moving her face at the last moment, so his kiss fell to the right of her chin instead of her mouth, "I...we really should get going and not leave Alistair waiting," she quickly explained, sliding out from under the mage. Anders remained posed in the same position - his eyes glued to where Hawke had been only moment ago.

As the rogue quickly slid on her clothing and filled a small bowl with water that had been sitting in a pitcher, Anders watched her - slowly changing into his attire. His eyes danced around Hawke as she threw water on her face and shook her head.

"Can I come with you?"

Hawke froze - droplets of water falling from her pale face, back into the basin.

"I can help. You know I'm a damn good healer and mage. A warrior and rogue can only get so far."

"I need to talk to Alistair about it."

Both remained still for a moment, before Anders approached Hawke - offering her a towel for her face.

"What is it?" he asked, as she accepted the towel.

"That is a towel Anders. It's used for drying things."

"No - I mean what's wrong."

"I can easily ask the same thing of you," she dropped her brows - her tone filling with a bit more tension.

"Hawke...you do remember something from last night, yes?"

Lowering the towel to her side, the rogue leaned her back against the table with the basin - studying Anders.

"I...remember wanting to talk to you."

"Do you remember what we talked about?"

"That..." Hawke's eyes dropped to the ground, as she straightened part of her clothing, "We missed each other."

"And after that?"

"I hugged you."

Anders licked his lips in discomfort, before scratching his neck, "That's...the last thing you remember, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

A smile tugged at Hawke's lips, "Did I miss something good?"

"It seems inappropriate to speak of it, if you don't remember."

"Oh...now you're just teasing me. Tell me, Anders."

"Let's see if I can trigger the memory...'Does Justice get aroused?'"

Hawke rolled in her lips, fighting a slight redness that began to swell over her cheeks.

"Ha! You remember!"

"I...Maker. I'm sorry Anders. You give me a lot of...weird feelings."

"Is that what we're calling it now?"

"I miss your companionship and weird little obsession over cats. But it was also the most _stressful _relationship I've ever been in."

Anders lowered his brows - a hurt expression sliding across his features, "What?"

"I flirted with you once, and you gave this _grand_ speech how being with you is going to be _not easy_ and a _huge risk..._and blah blah blah. But I continued anyway. Then you would randomly separate yourself from me 'for my own safety'. Again. I continued anyway. But Anders...this wasn't occasional. This was constant. When you blew up the Chantry...I just...I can't, Anders. I can't."

"I..." the mage's eyes dropped to the ground.

Hawke took a step forward and placed a kiss on his forehead, before exiting the room.

Alistair stood in the hall - his cheeks flushing at the sight of Hawke.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to-"

"Ready?"

"I...yeah."

"We should get moving."

"Where's Anders?"

"He's not coming."

**AN: This took longer than it should. Sorry again. Also random head-canon that Hawke is a really calm drunk, but gets naked easily. Yeah. This chapter gave me emotions. Perhaps if everyone is nice, I'll have a flashback on what happened between Hawke and Anders at some point. Or make it a bonus chapter. Yes.**

**Rated M for: language, sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	7. Chapter 7: Dreams

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Seven: Dreams_

He has been tossing and turning all night.

We left that dreadful town earlier today - and Alistair surprisingly hasn't questioned why Anders isn't with us - nor why he and I were in the same bed. I haven't decided if he respects my privacy, or if he's simply too bashful to ask.

Our exit was swift - since the town figured out that I am, indeed, Hawke. Probably can thank a Justice-filled Anders for that.

So this led Alistair and I into the woods in a bit of a rush. A lot of him noisily following my sneaking within the shadows.

I guess that defeats the whole 'sneaking' bit.

I...wonder what the Warden is dreaming about? I can't tell if I should hand him a rag or give him a hug.

When we set up camp, he complained of being a bit tired. He was out before the fire fully burned down. And that's why I'm sitting up and he's lying down.

Figures, I guess.

"Alistair."

The Warden stared at the fire, as the form softly entered the room. Her footfalls were near silent - causing him to jump as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh! Welcome back to reality, Alistair!" the woman teased - her yellow eyes narrowing in the odd pleasure of catching the warriors lack of attention.

"Do you have to be like that?" he asked, as she pulled her long brown hair down from its messy bun.

"Like what? Use your words."

"Mean."

"You wound me," she smiled, sitting next to Alistair on the bed - her eyes studying a candle on the nightstand.

"Why are you here?"

"I know our fearless leader talked to you, already. Don't play dumb with me. Well...dumb_er._"

"Why can't he...do this?"

"Because he's committed to another and I respect that."

Alistair leaned forward on his knees - eyes glued to the ground.

"There's...something else, isn't there?"

The Warden said nothing - though his cheeks grew warm, causing the apostate to laugh under her breath.

"Oh...don't worry," she placed a hand on his shoulder, causing his muscles to tighten in his back, "You might actually enjoy this. Now undress."

"Your seduction technique is amazing, Morrigan," he grunted in a flat voice, as the apostate stood and slipped off her robe.

"I promise you won't hate this," she commented, as she carefully folded her robe and set it on the end table.

Alistair slowly stood and slipped off his shirt and trousers, before laying back on the bed - eyes locked on the embers of the fire.

Morrigan approached the bed - clad in only her wrappings. As she crawled up to him, the Warden found himself backing away - before his head met the headboard of the bed.

The apostate laughed under her breath, before she lifted a hand towards the fire. The embers dulled into a deep red glow, as she leaned forward and extinguished the candle with a single puff of breath.

Should I wake him? The man looks terrified. Though...I remember a friend in Lothering who had a father nearly die, because they woke him from a nightmare. Something about being too caught in the fade...or something? Ah...that was so long ago, I hardly remember.

I feel awkward sitting next to a man who looks like he's about to piss himself.

Maybe if I just throw a pebble at him?

Through the dying embers, Alistair could see the outline of her body as she leaned towards his face.

Instead of kissing him on the lips, she moved to his neck - carefully working her tongue and lips just below his ear, as she undid her top wrapping and threw it next to the bed.

Alistair closed his eyes - separating the sensation from the person. Her chest rubbed against his bare skin, causing his breath to hitch slightly, as she continued to work his neck. Morrigan's hand slid down his stomach, finding itself atop his manhood. Alistair gasped slightly, as she moved one of his hands to her chest.

Eyes remaining closed, he took in the various sensations, causing his hips to rock against the stroking of her fingers.

"Ah...there we go..." she whispered.

As Alistair's brain reminded him of who was causing him pleasure, her mouth suddenly moved to his. With the motions that had started gentle and smooth were suddenly now quick and almost eager.

Pretending it was a lovely and rather attractive woman he had seen earlier in the day, Alistair returned the feverous actions - catching Morrigan a bit off guard. Laughing a bit under her breath, carefully slid off their lower wrappings, before abruptly sliding Alistair inside her.

The Warden gasped.

"I'll be gentle."

I don't think it's a nightmare anymore.

I don't think I should even be paying attention to this anymore.

I'm convinced he just moaned in his sleep.

This is so...awkward.

He was silent the night before last when we camped just outside of town.

Now this.

Maybe I'll move my blankets to the other side of the fire...

Alistair's sensations felt overloaded. He no longer cared who was on top of him or why she was there. All that existed was the _feeling_. The embers in the fire grew a little brighter - allowing him to see her face. Even though he hated her - seeing the waves of pleasure wash over her face made it...feel better somehow.

Wanting to control it, he grabbed her shoulders and rolled himself on top. She rose a brow in confusion - mixed with a slight smile.

"Feeling brave, are we?" she asked, as he began to move his hips.

Quick, deep motions caused Morrigan to dig her fingers into his back. She grew increasingly more vocal, causing him to move faster. She suddenly felt twice as tight - her legs wrapping around him - eyes slamming shut. Her face filled with a pleasure he had never seen out of another person before.

A pressure was quickly building inside him, as she slowly relaxed. His breathing increased to almost a pant - eyes closing from the sensation.

Tightening her grip on his back, Morrigan moved with him - making the sensation stronger.

Alistair gasped, then grunted several times - before taking a deep breath. His eyes opened to the naked apostate below him. Her harsh yellow eyes watched him, as her long brown hair remained spread across the pillow. The Warden lay himself next to her, as she sat up.

"Not half bad for a _pure_ boy," she commented in a harsh tone, as she pinned her hair back into its bun. Sliding on her wrappings and robe, she approached the door.

"Goodnight, Alistair. Thank you...for this gift."

And she was gone.

Alright this has to be the worst wet dream ever.

He's gone from moaning to what sounds like weeping.

Is there a handbook for dealing with this?

Maybe if I just ignore...wait...is he shaking?

The man he had followed since the loss of his half brother jumped at the Arch Demon.

His deed the night before was about to save both of their lives.

But the power it gave Morrigan.

As the other Warden's blade cut through the dragon's flesh, he looked back at Morrigan.

And she smiled.

A blinding light filled his vision until all he could see was a form. It was impossible to tell if it was a man, woman, child...or something else.

It was moving towards him.

"Alistair."

The voice was deep - sending a vibration down his spine.

"Who...who are you?"

A low sound caused the air to vibrate and his head to burst with pain.

He fell to his knees as the clouded form slowly moved towards him.

"Alistair."

"Stop! Stop! Stop it!"

The low rumbled turned into a shriek causing the man's senses to be overloaded.

He screamed out in pain.

Hawke poked the embers in the fire, as the last puffs of smoke flew into the clouds.

Pushing her short hair from her face, she glanced over at Alistair. Any pleasure that was once on his face was now far gone. His brows were pressed together. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead. What was once a subtle movement was now a violent shake.

Gently, she reached a hand towards his shoulder.

Alistair suddenly shot upwards - a strained gasp escaping his lips. As Hawke took a breath to speak, she suddenly found herself with the Grey Warden clinging to her.

The rogue glanced down at the man who was shuddering slightly. His head rested gently atop her shoulder - arms carefully looped around her. Using her one free arm, she patted his back gently - a confused and slightly awkward expression spreading across her pale features.

"Um...are you alright?" she gently asked, as the shuddering slowed - his fingers digging into her back slightly.

After a moment, he pulled away - resting his head on his knees as he pulled them to his chest.

"I'm...so very sorry."

Even in the dim moonlight and faint light cast by the end of the fire's life, she could see the heat in his face.

"Interesting dream?"

"You could say that," his voice quiet.

"Who was it?" Hawke smirked, as Alistair's posture relaxed slightly - his eyes locked onto the fire.

"What?"

"Well I'd guess 'she' - but I've been surprised by people's preferences before. Oh! Or was it both?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alistair's voice flat.

Hawke gently put a hand on the Warden's shoulder, causing him to flinch, "You were moaning in your sleep."

"I...oh."

"So who was it?" a cheeky smile spread across Hawke's features.

"Just a bad dream."

"With a fun interlude somewhere along the way."

"No, not fun."

"Fine...fine, I'll back off of that part. But I simply must know what causes a seasoned Grey Warden to scream himself awake and cling to whatever is closest to him."

"I...don't..."

"Some random monster? Darkspawn? Arch Demon?"

"Actually..."

"Which?"

"Well, as a Grey Warden I dream of an Arch Demon during a Blight."

"We're not in a Blight right now - at least to my knowledge."

"I know - but the dream was similar."

"That can't be good...unless it was just a dream."

"I...no it wasn't."

"It wasn't. Right. Of course it wasn't," Hawke shook her head slightly, "So what are we dealing with here?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're unsure? But it's your _job_ to know. You're a Warden. You drink that blighted blood in order to have super powers."

"Really? I thought I drank the blood of a Darkspawn because it _tasted like candy._"

"Well then it all makes sense now," Hawke replied with a sharp tone.

"You should get some rest, Hawke. Sorry for...things."

"Let me know when you figure out what's going to swoop out of the sky and kill us, alright?"

"Ha...swooping is bad."

"What?"

"Uh - nevermind. Get some rest, Hawke."

"Sleep well."

**AN: WELL THAT TOOK ME FOREVER AGAIN. I'm sorry for being so bad with these updates. I work all day in front of a computer, so getting back to it to write more is sometimes hard. At least I got you all a long, sexy, and awkward chapter to enjoy!**

**Rated M for: language, sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	8. Chapter 8: Surprise

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Eight: Surprise_

He was already awake when I rose this morning. Though he wouldn't admit it, I could easily see he never turned in after his nightmare. I'm not even sure it was just a nightmare, really. He's been a Warden for years - he should know the difference, right? Perhaps it's even the answer to what happened to my sister. Whatever evil is in his head could easily be the cause of..._it. _But Bethany was a Warden. If it was near, shouldn't she have dreamed of it, as well?

Whatever..."it" is...

I just hope if we run into any trouble today, Alistair is able to hold up.

...I just ruined our chances of a quiet day didn't I?

Shit.

"Darkspawn," Alistair suddenly whispered as they walked, his eyes narrowing to scan the area - a hand lifting towards Hawke to halt her steps.

"Really?" Hawke frowned - hand reaching for one of her daggers.

Ahead of them sat a small meadow. The wind brushed the surface of the water slightly. A bird flew overhead.

"Invisible Darkspawn?" Hawke asked after a moment, glancing over her shoulder to see if they were slowly coming from another direction.

"They should be here..."

"I see a bird."

"That's not Darkspawn."

"Are you sure? It looks pretty menacing to me..." Hawke leaned her head slightly to the side as the bird drank from the meadow.

"It's not. A. Darkspawn."

"Are there even Darkspawn birds? I mean I've seen wolves that seem 'special'."

"Not Darkspawn."

"And I mean special in that 'that doesn't seem natural you should have a healer look at that' sort of way."

"Hawke."

"I guess the wolves could have just been dying of some horrible disease..."

"Hawke."

"Or maybe they have all sorts of animals - like a dark version of our reality that just ends up colliding with us because we're invading them as much as they're invading us."

"One, there are Blighted Wolves. Two - where the hell did that theory come from? Three - there's something over there."

"Yes. A bird that's secretly a Darkspawn."

Alistair snorted under his breath, before shaking his head, "No. Look."

Hawke narrowed her eyes and spotted a small child crouched beside a bush. The blonde kid reached towards the bird, causing the creature to hop away. In a fit of frustration, the child waved its hands - causing the bird to go from black to bright green.

"Magic kid," Hawke whispered, as another walked up behind the child. It was a rather thin woman with dark hair pinned back - leaving a few pieces to hang in her face. With one wave of her hand, the bird returned to its normal raven hue.

"You can't keep changing animal's colors!" the woman began with an irritated voice, "We're trying to remain hidden here, remember?"

The child giggled as it played in the water's edge.

"I swear you have your father's intellect..."

Hawke glanced over at Alistair with an amused expression. However, the Warden's face was hard. Eyes narrowed. Jaw clenched.

"Do you know them?" Hawke whispered, causing the adult woman's head to snap towards Alistair and Hawke.

"Show yourselves," her voice sharp, as she removed a staff from her back. The child instinctively hid behind her

Alistair took a step from behind the small group of trees they were hiding behind - Hawke remained hidden.

"And the other," the woman sighed in an irritated voice - staff still raised.

Hawke stepped out beside Alistair, shooting her companion a side-glance.

"I told you to stay away, Alistair," the woman said in a low voice - her grip upon her staff increasing.

"Like I would try to see you on purpose, Morrigan. I think I'd rather wrestle an ogre naked."

"Hmm...reminds me of the conception of the child," Morrigan smirked, causing the Warden's face to redden.

"You two...know each other?" Hawke asked, glancing back and forth between the mage and exTemplar.

"You don't know?" Morrigan asked, staff still pointed at them, "Hmm...odd."

"Morrigan and I traveled together to help the Hero defeat the Arch Demon."

Hawke glanced back over at the child that was peeking around Morrigan's robes.

"If you two are friends, can you lower the staff then?" the rogue asked.

"Who said anything about us being friends?" Morrigan asked, " 'Twas never said nor will ever be said."

Alistair shook his head slightly - face still hot - eyes on the child behind her.

"And just who are you, stranger? A new Warden Recruit? Did Alistair finally find himself a woman who could tolerate him?"

"You are such a _pleasant_ human being."

"Do you wish me to harm you?"

"I'm Hawke."

"Am I supposed to know who you are? You say that with a tone of reluctance - as if you do not wish me to know your name."

Hawke rose a brow, "I saved Kirkwall from the Qunari attack then started the Mage/Templar War a few years later. It's honestly nice not having someone know who I am."

"Which side did you choose?" Morrigan's voice low.

"Hmm?"

"Mage. Or Templar. Or did starting a war inhibit your ability to understand language."

"People like you are why I had to pause and think before choosing my side. I chose the mages by the way. But mostly for my sister."

"I didn't ask why you chose your side. Just which side. Tis odd you told me more than I asked when you didn't even want to tell me your name."

As Hawke opened her mouth, Alistair held up a finger to silence her. The rogue narrowed her eyes at the warrior.

"Can...I meet her?" Alistair asked, as the child smiled lightly at him.

"No. I've told you this already. You weren't even supposed to see her."

"But-"

"For a warrior you are _soft_. You have no connection to this child other than blood."

"And here I thought Alistair was pure..." Hawke whispered to herself, as Alistair shook his head an annoyance at Morrigan.

"Blood matters!"

"Is that why you're king? Oh wait. The man of _actual _noble blood who saved Ferelden is," a venomous smile spread across Morrigan's lips, as Alistair drew his sword.

"I think we should all calm down," Hawke insisted, motioning for Alistair to put away his sword.

"Tis a shame. This didn't have to end in blood-shed," Morrigan stated, before lifting her staff into the air before stabbing it forward towards them.

Hawke found herself unable to move, as Morrigan calmly walked closer. Alistair with sword still drawn - also appeared to be paralyzed - a slight panic burning behind his eyes.

"Pay close attention, child. You will learn from this."

Instead of approaching Alistair, she stood in front of the Champion.

"Pretty thing, aren't you?" she waved a hand in front of Hawke, causing a searing pain to erupt from her chest.

A weakness spread through Hawke's limbs, as the woman smiled.

"Tis a shame. Say goodbye to your pretty friend, Alistair."

There was a bright flash.

Then blackness.

**AN: I AM A BAD PERSON. I'm so sorry it's been ages since I updated - but life got insane. There was moving, and jobs, and several birthdays, and now college is back. Really no excuse. Blah.**

**Anyway, with this chapter I took a swing at the sex of the God-Child. I heard from someone that Morrigan SAID it was a boy in Witch Hunt...but I didn't remember that and with some Google-searching I wasn't able to confirm. SO IT'S A GIRL. If I'm wrong - well it's a fanfic so I can have fun. Yep.**

**I already have the next chapter started.**

**Sorry I suck!**

**Rated M for: language, sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	9. Chapter 9: Halt

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Nine: Halt_

The paralyzed Warden strained his eyes in order to peer down at Hawke, as she rested in a motionless heap on the ground. The soft crunch of Morrigan and the child departing, faded into the distance. After a moment, the paralysis spell finally ceased to keep its grip upon Alistair, causing the man to lose his balance and fall to the ground. Crawling over to Hawke, he brushed her hair out of her face and studied the woman. Opening her eyes slightly, she smiled weakly.

"I don't approve in your choice in women," she whispered in a hoarse voice, as Alistair's brow pinched together.

"Ha...well good to see you're not dead," he smiled, with a slightly pained expression upon his face - as Hawke's eyes drifted closed, "Right?"

She didn't reply.

"Right?"

"HALT!"

Alistair froze as he crouched next to Hawke - his eyes closing in irritation.

"How can I halt when I'm not moving?"

"He's got a point," a woman's voice quietly added, as Alistair felt a sword press gently against the back of his armor.

"Shh," the man who shouted 'halt' replied to the woman, causing him to press the sword slightly harder into Alistair's back.

"Can I help you?" the Warden asked, leaning towards Hawke's body in a protective fashion.

"Identify yourself!"

"I'm here on official Grey Warden business. Lower your weapon," his voice oddly even, as he stared at Hawke's closed eyes.

"He's got an injured woman," the woman's voice quietly pointed out, as Alistair turned to view the strangers.

A man with curly ginger hair and scruff lowered his sword - clad in templar armor. The woman stood just behind him - her dark hair pulled back into a low bun - mage robes covering her body.

"Can you help her?" Alistair asked, moving aside to reveal Hawke's limp body on the ground.

The Templar looked back at the mage, who was frowning, "What happened to her?" she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Bad magic?" the Warden half-asked, glancing back down at Hawke. Part of her hair was caked down in blood.

"May I take a look?" the mage asked - looking at the Templar instead of Alistair. Silently the Templar nodded, allowing the woman to crouch down beside Alistair to examine Hawke.

"What's your name Warden?" the man asked, as Alistair gave the mage room to help Hawke.

"Alistair. What's yours, Templar?"

"Adric," he nodded, "Is that Hawke?" the man asked, leaning around the mage to see the unconscious woman, "Champion of Kirkwall?"

Alistair froze, as the mage looked up at the Warden for an answer.

"I...uh no. No she is not."

"I fought her when she turned on the Templars," Adric continued, "I'd know that face anywhere."

"You were a Templar in Kirkwall?" Alistair asked, as the mage began to silently heal the rogue, "Why are you out here?"

"Chasing that one," he pointed at the mage, who lowered her head as he pointed.

"She's very, very injured. Can you hand me my bag? I need some lyrium to keep her alive."

Without hesitation, Adric grabbed a small bag from beside his feet and tossed it over to the woman.

"Did you just hand a mage you left your city to hunt..._lyrium_?" Alistair asked, as the woman retrieved the blue vial from her bag.

Adric remained silent for a moment, before quietly replying, "Do you want your friend to live or not?"

Fire crackled as distant voices quietly spoke amongst themselves. Eyes slowly slid open to stare up at the bright stars that peered through the sky. Hawke exhaled, feeling an odd heat in her chest, and tingle in her arms.

As she attempted to sit up, a hand gently pushed her back down. A strange woman smiled down at her, as the other voices halted.

"Welcome back to us, Lady Hawke," she stated in a sweet voice, causing the rogue to narrow her eyes in confusion.

"I wasn't aware of leaving."

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked, checking under several pieces of cloth that were pressed to various points on Hawke's body.

"Like I drank an entire tavern yesterday."

"Any odd sensations?"

"My chest feels hot. My arms feel kind of cold and tingle a bit. Also - who the Blighted hell are you?"

The woman appeared to be caught off-guard by Hawke's roughness.

"I...am Maryanne," the woman glanced towards the warmness of the fire - as if to confirm she could speak, "I healed you."

"Mage?"

"Yes."

Hawke rolled her head to the side - glancing over towards the fire. Alistair sat on the side of a log - carefully watching the exchange. Another man sat across from him - appearing disinterested in Maryanne and Hawke."

"And who are you?" she directed at the man, noting the Templar emblem upon his chest.

"Adric," he replied, tearing a small bit of meat off of some small bones.

"Alistair - did you recruit people while I was dying?" Hawke asked, raising a brow.

"They just agreed to help you not die," the Warden shrugged, glancing back into the fire, as Maryanne moved away from Hawke.

"You appear to be well enough to sit-up. I wouldn't strain yourself for awhile though. Came close to running off into the fade and never comin' back," the woman smiled lightly, before taking her place by the fire.

Hawke carefully sat up, cradling her ribs as she moved. Noticing that they were all watching her, she frowned, "Are you expecting me to dance or something?"

As the flames ebbed into an ember, the four members of the camp began to ready themselves for rest.

"Alistair," Hawke whispered, as the man set himself to take first watch, "A word?"

Taking a few steps from camp, she studied the man, "Who are they?"

"Adric and Maryanne. They-"

"A Templar and a mage."

"I'm aware-"

"She's a prisoner but he does not treat her like one. During a war."

"Is that so bad?"

"That's...not how it works. Especially now," Hawke narrowed her eyes, before glancing at the other two, who were also quietly talking amongst themselves.

"He's from Kirkwall, you know," Alistair added, causing Hawke's vision to snap back to Alistair.

"I fought him then," a panicked expression filling her bright eyes, "You let a man who probably wants me dead - allow his prisoner to...were you trying to get me killed?" her voice rising to an angry whisper.

"Quite the opposite, actually."

"The only reason they helped was probably to drag me back to Kirkwall to answer for my crimes of high treason."

"No, Hawke."

"I wonder if they found me the same way you-"

"Hawke," Alistair grabbed her firmly by the shoulders, causing the woman to tense and reach for her dagger - which was not there, "They are not trying to kill you."

"That's not-"

"Hawke. You're being paranoid."

The rogue roughly pushed Alistair off of her, "That's how I _survive_, you Blighted fool."

The Warden narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, before his head whipped towards camp, "Darkspawn..."

"Darkspawn!" Adric's voice confirmed, causing both Hawke and Alistair to rush back to camp.

Both Maryanne and Adric were both already battling the Hurlocks with their tools of choice.

Hawke, once again, reached for her daggers - only to find nothing.

"Where are my daggers?" she asked, as she began to crawl around the camp to locate her weapons in the dim moonlight.

Alistair pulled his sword and shield, diving into the small hoard that assaulted the camp.

"This is quite a few for a non-Blight," Maryanne remarked, creating a glyph of paralysis directly in front of Adric as a Darkspawn caught him off-guard.

"Where _are_ my daggers?" Hawke asked again, going through her own bag.

"I didn't sense them until they were on top of us..." Alistair grunted, as he sliced the head off of one of the enemy - kicking its body away from him.

"Basically nothing is right about this," Adric added, swinging his greatsword with extreme precision, as the battle continued.

"What did you Blighted morons do with my daggers?!" Hawke yelled, as she began to go through the others' bags.

"Alistair! Behind you!" Maryanne shouted, casting a spell to delay the swing of the Darkspawn.

As it began to thin, the members of the camp began to relax in their fighting efforts, as Hawke continued to search for her daggers.

A low growl shot through the forest - the ground beginning to rumble.

"Ogre!" Adric shouted, as the beast charged towards them. Maryanne attempted to cast various spells - only to have them miss due to the creature's speed.

As it closed in on the group, two daggers flew through the air. One hit the beast between the eyes - the other in the heart. It fell forward - causing Alistair and Adric to jump out of the way.

Glancing back towards the source of the daggers, Alistair shook his head, as Hawke pulled herself to her feet.

"Never, _ever_ hide my daggers," she replied calmly, as she walked up to the ogre and removed her blade from its head, before carefully reaching under the beast for the one located in his heart.

"I've never seen one go down in two hits," Alistair commented, as she walked over to a stream to clean her blades.

"One killed my brother when my family ran from the Blight. I made it a point to learn their weak-points," she replied, staring down at her blades as she washed them.

"You have great skill with the blade," Adric commented, poking the dead beast with the tip of his sword.

"We weren't trying to hide your blades," Maryanne stated in an apologetic voice, as she approached Hawke, "We were just keeping them safe while you healed."

As Hawke tried to stand from her squatted position, she grimaced and went back down.

Alistair offered her a hand to her feet, causing the woman to narrow her eyes at him, before accepting the help.

"While you're healed on the outside, Lady Hawke, your body still needs time to put the final pieces back together," Maryanne nodded, pulling her fingers inside the sleeves of her cloak.

As Hawke narrowed her eyes slightly at the mage, Alistair sat himself on a log beside the ashes of where the fire once stood.

"I'll take first watch, since I can sense them," he offered, as Adric flicked a piece of Darkspawn meat off of his armor.

"Wake me in a few to take over, Warden," Adric replied, as he removed his armor for rest.

"Then-"

"Then _me_," Maryanne held a hand up to Hawke, as she attempted to volunteer herself for watch, "Sorry Lady Hawke, but I insist you at least take the night off."

"Fine...fine. But I'm sleeping with my daggers, if you don't mind."

**AN: It only took me A FEW MONTHS but I'm back. Sorry. Anyway - due to the extreme delay, I gave you all a lovely long chapter AND NEW CHARACTERS! Adric and Maryanne. A very unique duo. Will they be joining us for much longer? Well - you'll just have to see in the next chapters. I'm also going to start putting the rating at the top and chapter specific so there's content warning before each chapter. Oh, and Hawke's first person commentary will return! Since she was unconscious, I decided to not have a first-person part for this chapter.**

**Rated M for: language, future sexual situations, violence, and so I can have freedom without fear of scarring a teen for life.**

**Oh – and I don't own anything ever.**


	10. Chapter 10: The House

**Evil Unknown.**

_Chapter Ten: The House_

So ex-Templar Alistair has a child with an apostate. That...honestly was not expected. Then there's the issue of Adric and Maryanne. They're nice enough people - I just don't trust them. Adric was and is on a different side of the war that _I helped start_. Yet here he is - helping Maryanne the apostate to her feet, and asking how I'm feeling.

I guess getting to the truth about Bethany isn't going to be a simple 'see the demon kill the demon' scenario, is it?

Blighted hell.

"Of course it's raining. Again," Hawke sighed, as they cleaned up their camp.

"Odd weather of late," Adric agreed, glancing up into the sky, as the mage pulled her cloak over her head to cut the rain.

"We best be on our separate ways," Hawke added, glancing down at her bag, as she pulled it onto her back.

"Alistair spoke of your mission," Adric began, "You will need help."

"And what of your mission, Templar?"

"I have completed my mission."

"Then why not return to Kirkwall to report to your superior that you caught the escaped mage?"

"There are times in life when a cause greater than your own is quite literally stumbled upon," Adric began, holding Hawke's gaze, "And I believe your mission is more important to the land, then bringing a mage to certain death."

"Maybe you'll get lucky and I'll die on this mission," Maryanne spoke up, smirking ever-so-slightly, from under her hood.

Glancing over at Alistair - who shrugged, Hawke sighed, "Fine. We need help anyway. And probably a town," Hawke added, glancing up at the heavy rain, "Or tents."

"There's a rather large house we passed," the mage pointed over her shoulder, "Perhaps they would let us stay there until the rain has passed?"

"The last people from these parts that we ran into weren't exactly...the giving sort," Alistair added in, narrowing his eyes as the rain grew heavier.

"Perhaps the rain will make them have pity upon us?" Maryanne suggested, as Adric nodded.

"It seems like our only choice," he agreed, as the roar of the rain made his words difficult to hear.

"Lead the way," Hawke gestured, nearly yelling to be able to make a sound over the rain.

Twenty minutes of silent walking later, a large estate came into view. As they approached, Hawke slipped on a rock, causing Alistair to catch her arm and pull her back to her feet.

The door of the mansion was taller than Isabela was, when she sat upon Hawke's shoulders. The rogue smiled at the memory, as she approached the door to knock. The sound echoed around within the house.

There was no reply.

"Maybe no one is home?" Alistair suggested, wiping some of the water off his armor, as they stood under the overhang.

"Should I try again?" the Hawke asked, as Adric peered into a large window that stood to the left of the door. Drapes blocked the view - causing Maryanne to flick her wrist to slide the curtains.

"Looks a bit abandoned," he commented, as Maryanne peered over his shoulder.

Dim light fell in through the mostly covered windows on both stories of the house. No furniture was within view.

Thunder roared behind them, as they stared into the old mansion.

"Ready your blades...and staff," Hawke instructed, as Alistair pulled at the door.

"It's unlocked."

Exchanging looks, they entered the old mansion. Maryanne mumbled something under her breath, causing a glowing orb to appear in her hand, "I'm not sensing any dark magic here," she stated, as the floorboards creaked under their feet.

"Nor am I sensing Darkspawn," Alistair added, keeping his sword ready.

"Doesn't mean that the place is empty," Adric opened a door on the left side of the room, only to find old untouched jackets.

"Precisely," Hawke opened another door, as Maryanne attempted to cast more light around the room for them to see.

After they finished sweeping the house, without seeing as much as a rat, Hawke sat in the middle of the dusty floor, holding her side as she sat.

"Feeling alright?" Maryanne asked, setting herself next to Hawke.

"Just a bit sore."

"Don't overtax yourself," she cautioned, as Alistair and Adric rejoined them on the floor.

"Not exactly up to me," Hawke whispered, as the Warden pulled off one of his gauntlets, and glanced around the mansion.

"So what do we do now?" Alistair asked, playing with the metal of his gauntlet.

"I hate to say it, but probably hold up here until the weather lets up," Hawke sighed, shaking her head in annoyance, as a muffled _thump_ came from upstairs.

"I thought you lot cleared upstairs," Maryanne glanced in the direction of the sound, her hand edging towards her staff.

"We did!" Alistair defended, rising to his feet, as the thumping continued.

Hawke rose to her feet, drawing a dagger, as she headed for the stairs. The thumping continued, growing in volume as she carefully moved up each step. As Hawke glanced back over her shoulder to make a smart remark about the situation, she froze. Rather than seeing a dusty floor, with her fellow travels sitting upon it - she was greeted by blackness.

"No dark magic, she said," Hawke angrily whispered under her breath, turning her head back towards the top of the stairs, as the thumping sound transformed into a growl. Pulling out her second dagger, she opened the door, where the sound appeared to originate from. An empty room stood before her - the sound gone.

"_Hawwwwwke..." _something hissed behind her, causing the woman to roll her eyes.

"Yes, what is it?" she replied in a bored tone, as she toyed with the hilt of her dagger.

"_I know what you DESIRE."_

"Great. A Desire Demon," Hawke sighed, turning herself towards the sound. Yet again, she was met with emptiness.

"A hide-and-go-seek, Desire Demon," she reiterated, in an irritated tone, shaking her head.

"_Do you not feaaaar meeee?" _

"Considering you don't have enough stones to show yourself - no. Not really."

Hawke turned around once more - not liking her back to an open room - jumping slightly as she noticed a form in the shadows.

"Show yourself, demon," Hawke ordered - her daggers still gripped tightly within her hands.

"_Do not be so eager to attack, sister,"_ a familiar voice slithered from the shadows, as what appeared to be Bethany, stepped into the dim, unnatural light of the room.

"Oh look, it's my recently deceased sister. I know it's not actually her, Demon. Stop playing games with me."

"Hawke?" Bethany's brows pinched together, "Why are you talking like that?" she stepped closer and closer to Hawke - clad in her Grey Warden attire.

"Because you're not real, Bethany. I'm not even sure why I'm talking to you," Hawke shook her head, growing more and more irritated.

"Where...where are we?" Bethany's voice shaking, "Sister...I'm scared."

"Let me guess - all I have to do is make a deal with you, Demon, and I'll get her back?"

"_That's your purposssssse."_

"No...not at all. Bethany - you're dead. Demon, I'm not on my mission to bring her back. She's...gone. I'm trying to figure out _why_ she's dead. Try harder next time."

Hawke's vision was obscured by a purple-black smoke, which curled around her. A face in the smoke slowly formed into a skeletal face, before the desire demon took form before her.

"A naked, horned, purple woman," Hawke sighed, "Dull."

"_I can give you anything...you desire."_

The rogue watched as the demon transformed into Anders - its voice changing to that of the mage.

"Try again," Hawke challenged, rubbing her thumb over her daggers blade, "I'm honestly not sure why anyone makes deals with you. When has ever making a deal with a demon been a good idea? Honestly, now."

"_People use me to make their fantasies become a reality," _the Demon purred, returning to her original form, as Anders' form disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

"Well good for you," Hawke tightened her grip on her daggers, "But I'd like to know where I am, if you don't mind."

"_Where do you think you are?"_

Hawke sighed in annoyance, before springing forward towards the demon - daggers aimed outwards. Before she could hit, something pushed her back, slamming her into the wall of the empty room.

"Blighted whore!" Hawke yelled, quickly pushing herself back to her feet - her heart thumping in her chest, as her eyes danced around the oddly now green room. A deep and distant laugh came from the walls, as the rogue remained poised to pounce.

"_Do you think I'll let a mortal kill me?"_

"I've killed demons before," Hawke threatened, "Some really, really screwed up ones, at that," images from Merrill's demon floated around her head, as did what became of Orsino and Meredith.

"_They were not I..."_

"At least they were brave enough to stand before me," she taunted, remaining perfectly still, as the demon moved around her - Hawke fighting the urge to swing.

"_Perhaps I have never moved..." _

In the middle of the room - where Bethany had once stood - the horned creature floated above the ground. Her toes just brushed the floor, as if the natural forces that touched everyone else did not touch the creature.

"_Haawwwwwwwke," _she purred, holding a hand upwards towards the rogue.

"What? Is this supposed to entice me more?" Hawke narrowed her eyes, as the demon smiled.

"_You don't have to keep running..."_

Springing forward, Hawke tried once more to kill the demon.

The demon held up a hand, halting Hawke mid-air.

"_You're so simple minded..." _

With a flick of her wrist, Hawke flew backward, hitting the ground.

As soon as the woman's back hit the hard, cold surface - everything went black. A cold feeling swept through her body.

Hawke's eyes shot open, seeing an arm hover over her face. The sound of rain screamed in her ears, as muffled speaking danced in the distance. Lifting her arms, she pressed the mysterious arm up, as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

In a rather large clearing in the middle of the forest, Hawke and the others at in the rain.

"Oh - you're awake," Alistair smiled from beside her, moving his arm away from hovering over her.

"Wha...why was your arm over my face?"

"So you wouldn't drown in the rainfall," he half-shrugged, as Adric greeted her with a nod from just past Alistair.

"Where's Maryanne?" Hawke looked around, as something behind her violently grabbed her shoulder, before moving in front of the them.

"You are all _fools_!"

"...Anders?"

**AN: Took a bit longer than I meant it to, but what's new? I enjoyed writing Hawke's indifference to the Demon. Also - SURPRISE ANDERS. My muse for this story has gone a bit crazy, since I got some Dragon Age books and I'm replaying DA:O. Yeah.**


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